When you call the suicide line, there's a person on the other side who can hear you, who knows how to do it, and who volunteered to do it.
She took a shower, got dressed, took her bike, with rain or not, an actual free time for her, and she is there listening to you.
That surgeon who you feel is totally trustworthy, leaves her home, drives to the hospital, meets you and opens you alive and does the job.
The policeman who answered that awful call, where children are killing children, the elderly are being abused or animals are being tortured. He attends all his calls, comes back home to the embrace of his family or partner or just his lovely pets, or simply a cosy home and lives on.
Who are these people?
How do they do it?
Why I cannot function like them?
Everything to me feels like a huge struggle.
Every time I am almost standing again, life hits me and I fall back, each time harder than the time before as I didn't have the time to recover from the last one.
The last hit I need to have was to see one of my dogs suffering and not being able to do anything about it.
It is weird to see your goal getting further and further away, life is so short.
What hurts me the most is that I know there are people going through the same, and sadly even worse.
I have found paradise inside of me, inside of every animal's eyes, it's there. Safeguarding my paradise is not yet in my skill set, so when I let someone who didn't respect me in, I mess it all up.
My paradise is there, but to be allowed to come in, I must learn how to protect it as well, otherwise, I may lose it all.
Hell is in every paved area.
Ignorance and apathy are our demises.
I wonder how much I ignore still, I wonder how many stupid things I still do without noticing it.
Can there be love without why?
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